


Never Had A Dream Come True

by Seanbiggerstaffrox



Category: Cup of Team, CupofTeam
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Detective Benedict, Humor, M/M, Slash, Townsworth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2218722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seanbiggerstaffrox/pseuds/Seanbiggerstaffrox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CupofTeam slash (because it had to be done)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Had A Dream Come True

** Never Had A Dream Come True: **

Detective Inspector Benedict Townsend enters New Scotland Yard and heads up to the third floor, to the Murder Crimes sector. Pamela Johnson greets him with a wave and a tired smile. She’s been looking worse for wear ever since she found out her husband Gary’s been sleeping around with prostitutes behind her back. They’re in the middle of a messy divorce, but she still comes in and gets her work done.

“Morning, Pam.” Benedict says, offering her a polite, professional smile.

“I think you mean night.” Pam says, pointing toward the clock. She’d point toward the windows, but they’ve been covered over with double-sided wallpaper. On their side, it looks like they’re looking out over a park, with a smiling sun and frolicking children and, in one panel, a rather startling looking gentleman with a trenchcoat and a fedora who’s attempting to lure the children toward him with candy. Benedict’s concluded over the years that it must be sherbet, a drug that worked its way into the stores in the guise of a sweet. It took a long time to get it off the market. It’s still out there, rampant all over the streets. Benedict narrows his eyes at the mysterious man before tracing the paper over to a small child, who’s stuck perpetually running toward the stranger. He’s named the child Timmy. He worries about Timmy sometimes.

While the view from their side is fairly chipper, the view from the outside in is more dismal. Looking up at the windows on the third floor, one would see a window inside of the windows. Inside that window would be another window and inside that window yet another one, going on and on for infinity. People often go mad trying to figure out where the windows end. They’ve lost a lot of good coppers to window-related madness.

Benedict knocks himself out of his thoughts and looks over at the clock. It is, indeed, night time. “My internal clock’s all wonky.” Benedict says. “Too many night shifts.”

Pamela nods sympathetically.

“Well, back to the old grindstone, eh?” Benedict says, going over to his desk. He checks his messages and his email. He’s on a murder case. A woman, Valentina, was discovered dead in an Eddie Stobart lorry. Benedict doesn’t find anything and picks up his phone, ringing down to the lab. “Science Sam?” He asks.

There’s a sigh. “I asked you not to call me that, Ben.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Science Samuel.” Benedict says, correcting himself.

“That’s not…whatever.” Science Sam says.

“Science Sam...antha?” Benedict guesses.

“What? No.” Science Sam protests.

“Science Sam…son…uel…ness…”

“Sam is fine. Just Sam.”

“Oh, right.” Benedict says. “Science Sam, do you have the results for the blood test on Valentina?”

Science Sam sighs. “Yeah, I was just about to send them up. I didn’t get anything for drugs, but her insulin levels were off the charts. It looks like-”

“Sherbet.” Benedict growls, shaking his fist at the strange Sherbet man in the window.

“Or Diabetes.” Science Sam says. “Someone could have injected her with insul-”

Benedict hangs up. “Sherbet.” He says.

Benedict rises from his desk and exits New Scotland Yard. He goes to his car and drives off to Bradley Street. He hides in the shadows, watching the people carefully. He sees a familiar figure emerge from an alleyway. He’s wearing a hoodie and looking shifty. His coat bunches up over the bags of sherbet he has hidden inside.

Benedict watches him quietly, feeling his heart seize at just how similar he looks to his ex-partner. Adam Wadsworth was killed a few months ago. Benedict’s still struggling with it.

Benedict crosses the street, approaching the dealer. “Rodriquez.” He says.

The dealer looks up sharply, frowning at him. “Ben.” He hisses. “What are you doing here?”

Benedict furrows his eyebrows. “How do you know my name?” He asks suspiciously.

“It’s me. Adam.” The dealer says.

“Yes. Adam Rodriquez, Sherbet dealer.” Benedict growls.

“No, Adam Wadsworth. Your partner.”

“That’s impossible. You’re dead.” Benedict says.

“No, remember. We faked it. I’m undercover.” Adam says, pausing to give Benedict time to process this. “I’m working with Narcotics.” He continues when Benedict still looks confused.

“Oh yeah.” Benedict says, suddenly remembering. “Oh wow, I thought you were dead though. Like we had a funeral and everything.”

“I’m not dead. You were there when I faked it, Ben.” Adam points out. “You helped me plan it and everything. You were supposed to tell my mother that I was secretly alive.”

“Yeah, I did not do that.” Benedict says. “Wait, if you’re not dead then who did we cremate?”

Adam stares at Benedict incredulously.

“It’s good to have you back, old friend.” Benedict says, placing his hand on Adam’s shoulder.

“I thought we were more than just friends.” Adam says.

Benedict stares into Adam’s eyes. They’re beautiful. They’re the colour of eyes, but more exaggerated and poetic. Like eyes that are somehow more eye-like than other eyes. Like laser, robotic eyes that see into Ben. Like if Ben’s soul were a thing that could be viewed with an x-ray and Adam’s eyes were x-rays, that’s what Adam’s eyes are like.

There’s a fraction of space between their mouths and Benedict wonders if he should touch Adam’s mouth with his own. He’d like to very much. He hovers, just centimeters from his resurrected partner.

“Adam.” Ben whispers.

“Ben.” Adam whispers back.

“Adam.” Ben whispers again, leaning in closer.

“Ben.” Adam whispers.

“Rodriquez.” Ben growls.

“No!” Adam shouts. “God, Ben!”

_Epilogue:_

Ben lays in the bed naked with the sheet pulled up over his chest. Adam shifts, turning to face him as he wakes up.

“Quite a night.” Adam says flirtatiously.

Ben nods. “Indeed. I didn’t know you could do that with Haribo.”

Adam hums in satisfaction. “Fancy another go?” He asks.

Benedict looks down at him, tempted but hesitant. “The precinct could have my badge for this, but dammit Rodriquez, I can’t resist you.” He dives down to pull Adam into a kiss. “Wait, wasn’t I supposed to be working on a case?” He says, frowning in thought before shrugging it off.

Back at New Scotland Yard, Science Sam opens a secret drawer in his desk, pulling out bags of sherbet. No one will ever know that he is, in fact, Sherbet Steve, the scourge of greater London.

 

 

 


End file.
